Roast for Dinner
by TaylorNicole27
Summary: Diane takes a break from her confectionary delights to seek vengeance on a certain rainbow haired frienemy of hers. M for a Reason! R/R


I leaned against the sink, rocking back and forth. Deep breathes, in, out, one, two. I finally dared to look up at my reflection.

What I saw wasn't a pretty sight. My rainbow hair was unwashed, untamed. It looked like a scene teen's dream gone bad. My magenta eyes were almost faded, looking not only at myself, but into myself. The sclera of my eye was red-veined, gross looking.

I hadn't slept right for weeks. The threat of her coming for me, to get me. I've always been a believer of karma, and I was well over do for an overdose. I turned quickly, to look behind me. I thought I heard something. I heard the vent fall behind me, and I was too late.

I felt a sharp pain in the back of my skull, and my ears started to ring. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, as my knees went weak, and I fell to the floor. The last thing I saw were pink slippers.

###

I awoke, head in agonizing pain. I tried jerking around. My skin was on a cool surface-

My skin? I looked down at myself. My body was exposed completely, for whomever to view. I tried to cross my legs, embarrassed, but it was of no use. It just made the shackles attached to my ankles shake. I was on a tilted surface, facing a wall, but sort of laying back.

I clenched my eyes shut, ignoring the fragile footsteps that were coming closer. She yanked my eyelids open with her index fingers, smiling creepily.

"Wakey-wakey, little one."

She looked at me intensely, her turquoise eyes boring into mine. Her smile faded, then leaned towards me, and kissed the tip of my nose.

"Let's get started.."

"No, Diane...I'm so sorry! Please! I'm sorry! " I sobbed, looking at her, pleading for mercy.

"You screw up my life, I screw up yours." She said no more.

Diane reached for the serving tray, and felt for a small scalpel, never breaking eye contact with me. She traced my lips with the detail scalpel, then pressed down into my right cheek. I squirmed, which made her dig deeper into it.

After she finished cutting open my cheek, she stood back and admired it.

"Not too shabby," She said to me, over my sobs. "Round two! Which would you rather me do first - your ankles, or your wrists?"

I screamed hoarsely, for hopes someone would hear.

"Fine then. Be that way." She reached for something on the tray, then walked around to the back of me. She shoved it into my mouth, then tied it from behind. Tears welled up in my eyes. The spikes pressed against my tongue, and the roof of my mouth. The blood leaked out the cut side of my mouth.

"Let me catch that," She said, taping a bowl to the underside of my chin.

"Okay. Wrists, shall we?"

I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. She gently touched my good cheek, rubbing it with her thumb. "Awe, sweetie. It will be okay..." She smiled at me, an attempt to persuade me it'll be okay. What a damn liar.

Diane taped two smaller bowls to both my wrists, to catch the blood, I assumed. She quickly picked up a steak knife, and sawed into my wrist slowly. I screamed in agony. I know I ruined her life, but this was too far.

She stopped halfway through, as it touched the sensitive tissue and bone matter. The same process was carried out on my other wrist. I banged my head against the metal table, and knocked myself out.

###

"WAKE THE FUCK UP!" She was screaming, and shaking me. I lazily opened my eyes, readjusting to the dim lighting. I tried to release myself from this trap, but I couldn't.

I wiggled my toes, then my fingers...wait. I looked down at my arm, and I tried to let a scream out. The spikes punctured the roof of my mouth, and they stuck there. I couldn't believe the bitch had cut off my hand!

She moved down to my feet, with a pair of pliers. Once again, she taped bowls to the bottom of my feet. She put the pliers on my big toe, then clamped it. My toe was hanging and I was trying to scream. I couldn't endure much more.

She repeated this step with the rest of my toes, and slowly but surely, had a nice little necklace of my toes dangling from her neck.

"You're doing a great job," She said, in a sickly sweet tone. "You ready for the third round?" She tilted her head to the right a smidge.

She got her entire collection out - scalpels, knifes, tongs, serrated forks, the works. She pushed the tray over closer to me, for easier access. I wiggled, jerked, banged my head. It was no use.

"Here's a little something to keep you numb. I want you to watch the show." She injected something into my arm, and waited a few minutes.

"You know, I really didn't want to do this. I didn't think I was going to go through with it, but hey. Burst of courage. You know, climbing through the vents was easier than I thought it would be. But you wouldn't know..."

She kept talking, until she thought I was ready.

"So first, I'm going to slice you open, okay?"

Diane grabbed a Sharpie from the table, and made a graph on me. Then, she got a thin knife off the tray, and started pressing into my skin, tracing the lines. I didn't feel a thing. After she cut a circle of my skin out, she got a detail knife, and sliced it up into petals. She lifted them from my form, and placed them in a jar.

She opened me with her hands, and smiled down at it. 'I couldn't, I wouldn't look,' I thought to myself. But I did.

I could see my ribs, which wasn't a good sign. I watched as she reached inside of me, and felt around. I couldn't believe this. Her hand came out with something long and fleshy. She squeezed it, and made sure it was safely put into a sterilized bowl.

She continued the removal process. My head was pounding, and my vision was blurry. I couldn't feel anything Diane was doing, which scared me a lot. When would I know?

Diane pulled something out, and cut it in half. She popped the fleshy pink morsel into her mouth. "Want some?" She cackled, then popped the other piece into her mouth, chewing immensely.

She came up from my open stomach, and looked at me. "I'm going to sew a piece of cloth so it's covered up."

She got a pair of gloves from the table, and then got a needle and a thick piece of cloth ready. She punctured my skin first, then proceeded to sew my skin to the cloth. I don't know why she would do this.

She got a syringe from the table, and injected whatever was in it into my arm. She smiled a twisted smile at me, then waited. I tried to move, but couldn't. I guess I was just too weak.

Diane removed the bowls off my body parts, then set them on the tray. They were almost full to the top.

She paced back in forth, checking her watch every few minutes. She finally came back over. She reached into her back pocket, and out came a key. She undid my shackles!

I went to go jump away from her, but I couldn't move. Was I paralyzed? It was then that my stomach suddenly felt like it was being twisted and manipulated. She picked me up, and went over to a dark corner of the room. She grabbed my wrists, and tied them again. She repeated with my ankles. My belly was hanging from the high posts my ankles and wrists were tied to.

She went over to the tray, and wheeled it over. Diane reached for the small white box, and opened it. She got something out of it, and I panicked.

"I just thought I'd warn you," she said, in a sugary-sweet tone, "That the paralyses counteracts with the numbing process, hence, you'll be feeling everything."

Diane striked the match, and threw it underneath me.

The papers caught flame immediately. They flickered underneath me, licking my stomach and thighs. The heat stung immensely, especially near my raw stomach. I was powerless, and my life was in the hands of Diane. And, knowing what I did, Diane would be closing her hands into fists, crumbling my life as I did hers.

I felt tears streaming down my face, knowing my fate. Then, she came towards my wrists, and turned something. I was suddenly flipped over, so that I was looking up at the ceiling.

"The perfect way to remove them," she mumbled to herself, "Is slightly cooked." Diane got a scalpel and two pins. She pinched my eyelid, picked it up, and stuck the pin through it. It was a dull pain compared to the flames licking my lower back. She repeated with my other eye.

She got the scalpel, and started to slowly cut my eyelid off. I felt as if my heart was going to explode any second now. Finally, she got the eyelid to come off. She waved it in front of my face. The pink fleshy side. She placed it on a small plate on the tray. She repeated with my other eye, even slower though.

"All done with that. Time to marinate!" She said cheerily.

Diane grabbed the bowls of blood, and slowly poured them over my roasting body. She turned the wheel as she did this, for assurance of maximum marination. I could smell the fetid blood.

My vision was all cloudy, my ears were ringing loudly, and that damn fire was burning me up.

"Oh no. We don't want you to be burnt!" She said, as she spun the wheel, turning me. It was back to looking at the fire. The cloth suddenly caught fire, and I was roasting internally.

My vision was completely disoriented now, the pains combusting inside of my being. The last sound I heard was Diane' s giggling.

###

"How's my babygirl?"

"I'm fine, Mom. "

"Did you do something new to your makeup?"

"Why, yes. I like this new color. But enough about me, let's go eat."

Diane carried the steaming entree over to the table. She cut a slice for her mother, then got the sidedish and dipped some out. Finally, she got a bowl of red sauce and poured it under the sidedish and entree. Her mother picked up her fork and knife, and cut the meat. She picked up a small bit and put it in her mouth.

"Mmm, Diane! The meat is so tender! What is this, exactly? How'd you get it like this?" Her mother pondered, mouth full of steaming entree.

"Oh, Mom, it's just a tender roast. I marinated it in a red wine sauce, over a slow fire."

"And the sidedish?"

"Oh. Freshly sliced peaches, mom! Stop asking questions, and enjoy it!"

"Such a refreshing change from your confections. And, I will, honey. I will."

###


End file.
